


XO

by strangelysweet



Series: strangelysweet's AUctober [3]
Category: Jennifer's Body (2009), Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Blood and Gore, But in a sexy way, Cannibalism, Character Death, Demonic Possession, F/F, F/M, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Consensual Underage Sex, Love Triangles, M/M, Murder, Occult rituals, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Small Towns, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, based off of jennifer's body bc it's the best horror movie of the 2000s, pop punk bands are not to be trusted, with lakes!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27285352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangelysweet/pseuds/strangelysweet
Summary: It wasn't meant to be like this.After Akechi Goro attends a concert he didn't even want to go to with his best friend, Kurusu Akira, something seems off. Brutal murders and horrific crimes aside, Goro finds himself under the watchful, jealous eye of his best friend as he meets new people, establishes relationships, and tries to exorcise a demon.Also, Goro's pretty sure punk-pop bands aren't meant to use occult rituals as a warm-up for their live shows.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke & Sakura Futaba, Kurusu Akira/Mishima Yuuki, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Niijima Makoto/Togo Hifumi, Niijima Sae/Takemi Tae, Okumura Haru/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: strangelysweet's AUctober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965229
Comments: 25
Kudos: 25





	1. Goro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Blood, Suicide Attempt

_It wasn't always like this. Things were different._

_Goro walks down the street, the stench of blood clinging to him, thick as it rolls off of his soaked clothes. The rain-slicked pavement has a cold to it that permeates the soles of his shoes as he walks through the night, mist clouding what was usually safe and familiar._

_It didn't have to be this way. Things changed._

_He's shivering, the tears rolling down his face mixing with the thick coat of still-warm blood covering every inch of him. He could scream, he could say something, but his tongue is frozen in his mouth, unable to move. The street is silent, and the light from the streetlamps isn't bright enough to put him at ease, but he knows that if they were, the blood would be stark red instead of the tar-black it is now. The traffic lights change in front of him, but no cars are to be seen. The green reflection of the light quivers on the wet tarmac, and the silence presses up against him._

_All Goro wants is to go back to the beginning. Before any of it happened. The faint sound of sirens blares in the distance, and for a split second, Goro can feel his smile against his neck, slick with blood, and his hands on his chest, just above his heart._

_He stops walking._

Kurusu Akira and Akechi Goro had been best friends since they were tiny. They knew each other inside out and, to be frank, were never seen without the other. At least, Goro was never seen without Akira. Akira was charismatic and attractive, pulling people to him like moths to a searing hot flame. People didn't last long with Akira. He put on a pleasant front that was everything you've ever wanted, to a point. He drifted in and out of relationships, blazing through them like thin candles. After waiting for the wax to harden, he'd melt through it again, giving each candle their own little slice of heaven before he burnt out. 

Akira was never like that with Goro. He was real, he was natural, and that's what made Goro feel special. He wasn't as winning as Akira. Abrasive and cold, he kept everyone at arm's length, staying in his comfort zone. He was jealous by nature, keeping Akira as close as possible and lecturing him about all the girls he kept dating, all of which broke his little heart in two for a day or so before he got back on his feet and into someone else's pants. 

They were inseparable until that damned concert. Goro remembered the day with such clarity, and he's still trying to cope with the aftermath. 

The morning before, Goro's alarm didn't go off. He remembers this, mostly because he staggered out of bed, cursing and slamming every sensitive part of his body against every sharp or hard surface in his room. His mother barely paid him any mind, only staring out of the window as he frantically shoveled cereal into his mouth. After sprinting across the hallway to grab his backpack, he paused, then made his way over to her. 

"I'm leaving now, mom. I'll be back late," He placed a hand on her shoulder, his tone gentle. "I... I love you, mom."

She turned as if groggily waking up from a stupor she'd been in for hours, then gave him a smile. "I love you too, Goro. Have a good day." 

He pecked her on the cheek, then resumed his frantic pace as he hurtled out of the door, calling behind him as he went. "I'll try." 

His bike was a rusty old thing, and it still is, although it more or less did the job before it was thrown into the bottom of a lake. Speeding through several lights, Goro took the shortcut through the woods, watching the morning light trickle through the trees. He loved the simple, quiet moments that he was able to sneak in before the chaos of high school every morning. Now, he despises silence, but it was nice to savor it before it felt oppressive. 

The halls were bustling with almost-late students walking to homeroom, carrying their folders and their backpacks with obnoxious disregard for the personal space of others. Goro pushed past a tall girl in a candy pink tracksuit, then barely skidded into his classroom before his teacher did. 

Kawakami Sadayo was a tired, disillusioned woman who aimed high and shot low. She was kind, in her own rugged way, and was far too trusting for her own good. She came in late, her hair a mess. She scanned the classroom, sighed, and walked over to her desk, dumping a stack of papers on the desk. 

"Good morning, all. I see we're missing a few of you, but that's probably for the best." She groaned, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee. 

As if on cue, the door opened, and Akira stepped inside. His dark hair hung around his face in messy curls, his cheeks were flushed from the cold, and he flashed Kawakami a charming smile as he strode over to the seat next to Goro, dropping his backpack by the chair.

"Hey. Did you see the text I sent you?" He said, unwrapping his red and black scarf from around his neck. 

Goro shook his head. "No. _What_ , did you find one of your favorite bands' MySpace page?" 

Akira lit up. "How'd you guess? There's a show coming up tonight, I want you there, so I'll pick you up at eight."

The brown-haired boy bit his lip, fiddling with a ballpoint pen. "I'm not sure, Akira. You know I'm no good with concerts." 

Akira pouts, leaning on his hand. "Come on, Goro." He flashed him one of the real smiles he had, making Goro's stomach sink. "Please? I really want to go with you. You can crash at my place afterward if your mom is still working the night shift." 

Goro swallowed, a strand of hair falling into his face as he stared down at the desk. Akira's black nail polish glinted underneath the strip lights in the classroom, and his finger brushed the hair behind his ear, warm against his cheek. 

"Fine." He conceded. "But if you make me watch one of your stupid movies, I'm going to kill you."

The concert was pathetic. Akira was rapt, hooked on every word the lead singer was singing, her long fingers strumming the steel strings of her emerald green guitar. The girl on the drums was looking straight at him, a sullen glare on her face that seemed like concentration at the time, but looking back on it, it was absolute loathing. The girl on bass was blonde, her pigtails bouncing up and down as she completely lost herself in her playing. 

Their songs were mediocre at best, but Akira was having a good time, so Goro let it slide. Of course, all thoughts left his mind when Akira's hand slipped into his, squeezing it tightly as the band's chorus kicked in. There was a moment before the show that should have stood out, that should have made him think something was off. It was before the band had set up. 

The lead singer was a gentle-looking girl, laughing softly as the drummer delivered a deadpan joke. Her eyes were a vibrant green, and they honed in on Akira before he even introduced himself. 

"Hi!" He chirped, a glass of some stupid, fruity cocktail in his hand. It loosened his tongue and put a sway in his step, but only slightly. The girls picked up on it instantly. "You're the band playing tonight, right? Cannibal Girls?" 

The blonde bassist giggled, twirling a hank of hair around her finger. "Yep! You've heard of us?" 

"Yeah! I love your music." He laughed, tugging Goro forward by the sleeve of his jacket. "I'm Akira. This is Goro."

The singer shared a look with her bandmates, then offered a dainty hand out. "I'm Hifumi. This is Makoto and Ann."

Akira flashed them a bright smile, then asked to get them drinks, and Goro started to zone out. His eyes kept traveling to the drummer, thinking he'd seen her somewhere before. Her mouth twisted into a frown once she caught him, and the glare she sent him sent a cold chill down his spine, freezing the blood in his veins. 

Akira practically skipped off to get drunker, and the girls immediately started talking. 

"He's totally the one. Just look at him. _Totally_ delish." Ann drawled, reapplying her lipgloss. 

The drummer, Makoto, crossed her arms. "Yeah, but is he a virgin, though? I don't think so. Just look at the jeans." 

"Now, now, Makoto. I think Ann's right. He's a virgin." Hifumi interrupted. 

Hot flames of inexplicable anger rose in Goro's gut as he leaned against a wooden beam. The way they talked about Akira set something aflame in his chest, something seething that clawed its way out of him. 

"Hey, watch it. That's my friend you're talking about." He growled, pushing off of the pillar. "And, for your information, he's never messed around with girls like you. So piss off." 

It was a blatant lie, but Hifumi and Ann shared a look with Makoto that didn't settle right in his stomach. They went right back to ignoring him and hooking their instruments up to their amps. 

That was the first warning sign he ignored. The second was the smell of smoke. He didn't even see the flames licking up the wooden beams of the ceiling, as his eyes were trained on his best friend's smile. Of course, the rest happened just like the papers said it did. The building was a charred pile of ash and charcoal by three in the morning. Goro and Akira were the only apparent survivors, thanks to quick thinking. 

The smoke was thick and choking, cloying around Goro's throat like spiderwebs. He and Akira sat in the dirt outside the burning bar, trying to catch their breaths. The dark-haired boy stared past Goro's shoulder, his usually animated eyes blank and empty. 

"Akira? Akira, it's alright, we're safe." Goro choked out, swiping soot across Akira's face as he cupped it with both of his hands, trying to capture his attention. 

He said nothing. Goro swallowed back a panicked cry, looking around for help. Instead, a pair of shiny red boots came into sight. Their owner peered down at him, then she dropped down to kneel by Akira. 

"Oh, dear, he's in shock. Here, baby, drink this." Ann offered him a tall glass of whiskey, the ice somehow still intact. 

He was pretty sure that wasn't how you dealt with an in-shock teenager, but Goro couldn't say anything. His tongue burned inside his own mouth, hot and heavy as it remained useless. Hifumi delicately stepped around the wreckage, her black stilettos gleaming like snakeskin.

"He should come with us. We can get him to the hospital. Why don't you go and call the fire brigade?" She mused, awfully calm for a victim of a horrible fire. 

He spluttered, trying to put himself between the girls and Akira. Makoto took a fist of his t-shirt, then threw him to the floor as if he was nothing. 

"Stay out of the way. You wouldn't want to hurt him any more than he's already been injured, _right_?" She growled. "Now, run along and call an ambulance. Be a good boy while we're gone, okay?" 

The sinking feeling Goro got as Akira was ushered into the van was nothing like he'd ever felt before. Somehow, every cell in his body was screaming that this was the last time he'd ever see his best friend again.

The rest was blurry, like paintings placed in water or melted like wax. Goro vaguely remembered calling one of Akira's stupid friends to mumble about how he'd been kidnapped by a pop-punk girl band, but she just told him to relax. This wasn't the first time Akira's been out all night partying with a touring band. She was right, but the tone she used only put him in more unease. The girl, Futaba, he thought, hung up immediately afterward. 

Goro was left alone in the house, his shaky breath the only thing resounding in the narrow halls. Everything seemed so quiet. That was when he started to appreciate silence less and less. His palms shaking and his knees weak, Goron snapped to attention when he heard the footsteps downstairs. 

Slowly, his hand trailing the wall, he descended the stairs. The hallways were dark, crawling with shadows that seemed more pronounced in his heightened state of fear. The kitchen was glowing with a cold light, and a shuffling was coming from the fridge. From the doorway, Goro could see a figure kneeling beside the fridge, rummaging around wildly. 

"Akira?" He called out, and the figure jumped. 

The figure stood up, and for a moment, he seemed impossibly tall. Then Akira turned around, rain glistening on his hair and skin in the dim light of the fridge behind him. 

"Goro," He breathed. The brown-haired boy lunged forward, checking him for any injuries. 

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying to feign nonchalance. "What happened to me crashing at your place, huh? What did we say about abandoning me to go be a groupie for some dumb band?" 

There wasn't a reply. When Goro's hands came back from Akira's body, sticky and warm, he realized that the rainwater on his jacket was terribly dark. The sudden metallic smell of blood was suffocating, and Goro fell to his knees, staring at his hands. Slowly, Akira knelt in front of him, placing his hand on Goro's face.

"Goro," He repeated, the growing hint of a smile in his voice. His teeth were stained with blood, and something about him seemed so _terribly_ off.

Then Goro was up, sprinting to his phone to call someone, anyone, just to make sure he wasn't alone. Before he could dial anything, a hand slapped the device from his hand, then slammed against the wall by his head. Sighing contentedly, Akira placed his nose in the crook of Goro's neck, threading another of his hands through his long hair. 

"I missed you." Akira sighed, his lips ghosting along Goro's neck. 

A shiver ran down his spine, and his heart trembled like a butterfly with its legs pulled off, trying desperately to move. Lips met his skin again and again, and suddenly he was gasping for air. Akira's name left his mouth countless times, spilling over his tongue like water. 

Akira laughed softly, then pulled away, staring down at Goro through his eyelashes. "I like it when you're scared of me."

And, just like that, he was gone, the front door standing wide open to the cold night air. 

The next day, Goro was practically a ghost. He flitted silently from classroom to classroom, thinking about the fire, the blood all over Akira's clothes, and the red marks he hid underneath his collar. Akira didn't show. Goro was partially glad he got the day to think, but it didn't feel right without him there. One of Akira's stupid friends, the one he called on the phone the night before, waved him over to her and a tall, dark-haired boy at the end of the day, holding their bikes by the fences. 

"Hey, Goro, over here!" She called, waving a hand in the air. 

As if on autopilot, he did as he was told. The dark-haired boy looked at him with a nonchalance that mildly pissed him off and flushed his cheeks at the same time. He was pretty, with prominent eyelashes, a symmetrical face, and elegant limbs. 

"Hey," Goro rasped, not having used his voice since the night before. 

The ginger-haired girl, Futaba, gave him what was meant to be a sympathetic smile but looked more like a grimace. "So, you were there, right? Before the fire trucks got to it? Not like it did much, but you and Akira got out safe, right?" 

He nodded, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Futaba nodded in the direction of the dark-haired boy. "This is Yusuke. He's an artist." 

Yusuke gave him a polite smile. "Hello."

Goro averted his eyes. "Hey. I'm Akechi Goro. Are you new in town?" 

Yusuke nodded, drumming his nails on the handle of his bike. Like Akira's, they were painted, but his were chipped and buffed with paint. Looking closer, Goro could see that his hair wasn't black, but a very dark blue. 

"I'm a transfer student. I lived in the city for a while." He said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "This is a big change for me."

The conversation fell flat, the background white noise of chatter becoming deafening until Goro went to wheel his bike onto the street. 

"Well, this was great, but I have other things to do." He said curtly.

Futaba opened her mouth in protest, but Yusuke beat her to it. "We're worried about you. Akira isn't here today, but we were wondering if you wanted to go to the lake with us?"

Goro's jaw fell slack, threatening to hang open. "It's October. It's freezing." 

"That's what's so fun about it," Futaba grinned, her glasses glinting in the light. "Well, fun for _you_. If I go in there, I might have an asthma attack, but you'll just be cold. Come on, we better get there before it gets dark."

That was how Goro found himself with two new friends, his new favorite place to hang out, and a cold. 

Futaba sat on the pier, the beach towels laid beside her. She had a thermos full of hot chocolate and a puffy jacket, and it wasn't even ten minutes before she started shivering and tapped out. Goro and Yusuke waved her goodbye, watching as she pottered away on her bike, the sleeves of her jacket flapping over her hands. 

"Well, that was anticlimactic. Are you still willing to swim?" Yusuke asked, but there wasn't any room for an answer as he stripped down to his underwear and jumped into the black water. 

Silver bubbles surfaced at the same time he did, and as he slicked his hair back from his forehead. His pale skin gleamed underneath the surface, glowing like a ghost. Goro swallowed. Yusuke didn't appear to be cold, so he did the same, dropping his clothes by the beach towels Futaba left on the pier, and dove in. Yusuke was either a wonderful actor or completely numb because the water was frigid and two degrees away from being ice. Goro yelped as the water met his skin, but between the chattering of his teeth, a small laugh made it out. Yusuke gave him a genuine smile and elegantly glided closer, the water glistening on his skin like jewels. 

"How long have you lived here?" He asked, dark eyes searching. 

Goro huffed out a sigh, trying to focus on the question rather than the cold. "My entire life."

"So, you like it then?" 

Goro laughed, throwing his head back. " _God_ , no. I want to get the hell out of here someday." 

Yusuke's hand drew circles in the water, sending ripples through the still surface. "Sometimes small towns are better. Safer, even. Of course, you should do as you please, but just keep that in mind."

Mist glided over the still parts of water by the river, silent and peaceful. The water around Goro got warmer as Yusuke got closer, a hand reaching forward to turn his face from side to side. Goro felt himself flush, the tips of his ears no doubt turning red. 

"You have wonderful bone structure. Has anyone ever told you that?" He mused, his fingertips tilting Goro's chin upward. Goro stumbled over his next words, but Yusuke spoke up again, an enigmatic smile on his face. "I'd like to paint you someday."

The rest of the evening was uneventful, but Goro was plagued with visions of Yusuke in the lake, the droplets of water dotting his face like gemstones. Every time he thought of the hand underneath his chin, Akira's warm hand tucking the strand of hair behind his ear burnt into him like a brand. He was left confused, visions of pretty boys blinding him, freezing and searing at the same time. 

_He chokes out a sob, his hands trembling as the sirens got louder. Yusuke didn't deserve any of this. Goro stares down at the tarmac, then snaps to attention as the pavement lights up red and blue. Not knowing what else to do, he sprints. Into the woods, trees and ferns tugging at his clothes, twigs scratching into his skin._

_Up ahead, the lake looms like a slumbering beast, dormant and still. Goro stares down at it, seeing nothing but darkness in its depths, and he exhales deeply._

_Goro steps off the pier and lets the cold water take him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rarepair time!! time to fuel my akekita brainrot teehee  
> this will diverge from jennifer's body but that is all i'm going to say because more would spoil it haha


	2. Goro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Gore, Suicide attempt, mention worms/maggots (might trigger trypophobia)

_Silver bubbles escape his mouth, a thick, oozing trail of blood billowing out as he falls deeper into the frigid waters of the lake. The depths welcome him, creeping cold fingers around his wrists and ankles. Goro exhales, letting the oxygen leave his body, finally calm in knowing this is his end._

_As he said, it wasn't always like this._

_But it was always going to end this way._

It was two days after the fire when Akira returned. When Akira walked down the hallways of the school's building, people usually looked. It was custom. But, that day, people _stared_. Goro stared too. He always looked good, but his hair was shiny and looked soft, his eyes gleamed, and he walked like he knew it. Hell, Goro saw one boy stare on in horror as his girlfriend started drooling. As he started to open his locker, Goro watched Akira approach him out of the corner of his eye. 

"Hey, what did I miss?" He chirped, examining a shiny black nail. 

Goro frowned, then shut the door to his locker, leaning against the hard metal surface. A high-necked sweater hid the bruises and bites from the other night, and he tried to avoid eye contact as his best friend leaned next to him. 

"Are you alright?" Goro asked, finally looking Akira in the eyes. "You seemed a little off the other day." 

Almost immediately, Akira's eyes narrowed, not dissimilar to how a cat played with its prey before gutting it. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

Goro swallowed, slowly becoming aware of Akira's flickering gaze around the collar of his sweater. "You were, uh, covered in _blood_."

A warm hand placed itself on his forehead. "Are you sure you're okay? You could be feverish with _delusions_ , but I don't feel a temperature." 

Then, timed with such precision that the movement couldn't be seen unless someone was really searching for it, Akira leaned in. The kiss was so fleeting (and paired with _such_ a quick bite) that it could hardly be considered a kiss. He reflexively put a hand to his mouth, staring up at his friend in confusion. 

"Just a bit of fun, Goro. Loosen up." Akira punctuated the sentence with a wink, running his tongue over his bottom lip. 

And with a final, dazzling smile, Akira was off down the corridor, leaving Goro alone by his locker, blood welling on his bottom lip. 

That was when Goro should have noticed something was off. They were _close_ , but Akira was never that forward, especially not in public. There was a difference between sharing a bed when Akira stayed the night and kissing him against the lockers, biting his lip, and slipping off into the crowd. But Goro didn't wrap his head around the change early enough, and he's paying the price now. 

_Blood. So much blood. It's hot, sticky between his fingers and metallic in his mouth. Yusuke lies limp in his arms, his face still and pale, like a doll. His hand trails down the side of Goro's face as he heaves out one, shuddering, final breath._

"Goro? Hey, dumbass, you're staring into space." Futaba waves a hand in front of his face, grimacing. 

Goro blinks, then takes his hand away from his mouth, noting the ruby bead of blood on his fingertip from where he was tracing the shape of Akira's mouth onto his lips. He licks the blood away, then quirks an eyebrow upward. 

"Good morning to you, too. Don't you have a computer room to haunt?" He quips, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

Yusuke let out a small, melodic laugh, then smiled gently at Goro. The brown-haired boy coughed and was about to say something but caught himself. It felt like there was more blood on his lips than there should be, and it was hot on his tongue. Akira's smile, baring sharp canines, lingered in his mind. 

"Well, I'll see you later. I'll be late for English, at this rate." Goro waves half-heartedly, inching towards the classroom. 

Futaba frowns again and flips him the bird. "Okay, that's fine. _Don't_ come to the lake with us after school, then." 

Yusuke looks down at her, a quizzical expression on his face. "The lake again?" 

"Small town, remember?" Goro laughs, then calls out over his shoulder, "Nothing much else to do apart from sit around lakes."

"And get high, but I'm not cut out for that stuff," Futaba mutters, dragging Yusuke down the hall.

Goro couldn't focus on any of his classes. A buzzing feeling wormed its way under his skin as if something big was going to happen, leaving him restless and jumpy. And something did. It was during his fourth-period Biology class, and the recurring experiment of shocking a dead frog's legs into jumping was getting old. Akira doodled little stars in his notebook's margin, bumping his knee into Goro's every now and then. The dark-haired boy eyed his friend from underneath his eyelashes, the ballpoint pen scratching away at the lined paper. 

As per usual, Goro carried the experiment. He was pretty sure the only reason Akira was passing the class was that Ms. Chouno liked the way his butt looked in those tight jeans of his. Goro scowled, poking at the dead frog with his pencil. Akira looked at it in disgust but quickly diverted his attention to something going on outside. Sirens blared across the soccer pitch, their lights flashing brightly. Students crowded the windows, pressing up against the class while Ms. Chouno struggled to keep them under control. A warm hand slipped into hi, and Akira tugged him out into the hall, laughing as they ran.

"Akira," Goro sighed, "If you're trying to get me to skip class again, I'm not going to forgive you."

Akira looked over his shoulder at him and smirked, wagging a finger in the air. "Only if we get caught. And it's only natural that I want to spend time with you. I think we need to talk." 

Akira led him around the playing field, dodging police officers' lines of sight, and tugged him into the woods around the school. Goro was breathless by the time they got to the clearing. Akira was unfazed and quickly started scaling a tree, nodding upward to his friend. Goro shook his head, laughing in disbelief. 

"Akira, this is ridiculous. I'm going back." He hissed, glaring up at him. 

Akira frowned, then snapped his head up in alarm. Immediately, with inhuman speed, he grabbed Goro's arm and pulled him up onto a branch. Just as they were out of sight, scores of police officers filed in, scouring the mossy ground with long poles. 

Breathless, Goro whipped around to Akira. "What the _fuck_ was that?" 

"Adrenaline rush, google it." He replied seamlessly, focusing on something in the middle of the clearing. 

Goro's mouth hung open with frustration, and he was about to say something when Akira shushed him before he could give away their location. He rolled his eyes, managing to get in a final whisper. 

"I'm pretty sure that you only got that from Twilight." 

Exasperated, Akira shot him a look that could have made a bird drop from the sky, dead. Then, the smell hit Goro, right in the face. He'd smelled it once before when he was a child. Before his father left, they had a small canary. The name escaped him; he was only four when it happened. It died, most likely from the neighbor's feral cat. His mother was working nights and days, trying to fill in for his father's dead weight on the household. The bird stayed in its cage for days. His father did nothing, staring at the cage with growing piles of beer bottles, the stench of decay growing in their living room. 

As the police uncovered the dirt from a large lump in the middle of the clearing, Goro felt the unwelcome familiarity of death and rot wash over him. He reflexively opened his mouth to do something, to say something, when a hand clamped over his mouth, pulling him against Akira's chest. 

"Don't scream, Goro," Akira whispered, his breath tickling the shell of his ear. "I've got you." 

For some reason, the words comforted him in a way he was somewhat unsettled by. It was like the calming toxins of a carnivorous plant, sedating and comforting before the prey was swallowed slowly. He relaxed, a hand coming up to loosely grasp the hem of Akira's collar. 

The body they pulled up was mutilated beyond recognition. A stitched name into a varsity jersey made the whole thing terribly easy. Akira watched with disquieting intensity, his hand absentmindedly fiddling with Goro's hair. The police called out the name of a student in their year. She was a volleyball scholar. 

"Shiho Suzui," Akira repeated, "Wonder what happened to her." 

His tone fell flat in a way that made Goro's skin erupt into goosebumps. Akira's hand was warm as it stroked the side of his face, fingers twisting in the long strands of his hair. They watched together, Akira in morbid fascination, Goro in rapt fear, until the police wheeled the body away, the gurney still dripping blood. 

Akira helped Goro down from the tree, seemingly unfazed from watching the police heave a slippery, gore-oozing body onto a gurney. Goro's shaky legs found ground but couldn't hold him up. He fell forward, right into Akira's waiting arms. 

"You alright?" Akira asked, "Didn't realize you had such a low tolerance for gore." 

Then he laughed. It was such a hauntingly beautiful sound, ringing out through the trees. How a laugh so cold could come from a person who was so warm was beyond Goro, but at that moment, he knew that something was wrong. That was the moment that he couldn't ignore. 

"Akira, that girl is _dead_." He uttered, "Something killed her." 

Akira laughed again, his eyes dark in the afternoon light streaming through the trees. The metallic smell of blood mixed with the refreshing scent of pine and Goro couldn't shake the feeling that he had to get out of there, run, and never look back. But he still held onto Akira like he was his lifeline, weak at the knees, gazing up at him in a strange mix of fear and neediness. 

Akira's hand gently tipped his chin upward, and he cocked his head to the side. "So? We all die sometime, hon. It's just a matter of who and when." 

When Akira and Goro were four, Akira would cry over accidentally squishing an ant with his shoe. When they were eleven, he would sulk if Goro's mother drove past an injured animal on the side of the road and didn't stop to nurse it back to health. Hell, that year, Akira started crying in a film where the dog died. 

The smile he had on his face went past unfeeling and unsympathetic. It was sadistic, cruel, and horrifically beautiful in its own, twisted way. Goro's breath left his chest, his heart hammering like a deer faced with a wolf. The strength was sapped from his limbs, and he fell to the floor. Akira slowly knelt beside him, leaning his elbows on his thighs. 

"Don't be such a baby, Goro. It's not like we knew her." He scolded, grimacing as he plucked a leaf from Goro's hand. 

Goro coughed, spluttering, "We know _everyone_ , Akira."

"Whatever," He trailed off, staring at Goro's mouth. He raised a hand to run his finger over Goro's bottom lip, lingering over the cut from earlier that day. "I'll call you later, okay?" 

And with that, he stood up, dusting the orange leaves from his knees, and walked away. Goro sat in the middle of the forest, a dark bloodstain the middle of the clearing, watching his best friend walk away. He glanced down at the dark discoloration on the bed of leaves, fear setting into his bones like fire eating at a log. The police had missed a few pieces of Suzui's body, leaving a few half-eaten scraps of flesh on the forest floor. Goro watched a squirming mass of maggots writhed on a bloody fragment of meat and paled. Shakily getting to his feet, he started to walk briskly back to the building, hoping he wasn't late to fifth-period. 

He staggered into the empty bathroom, hunched over the sink. Goro thought he was going to be sick, but he wasn't. Although his mind was racing, his body felt completely relaxed, as if floating in warm water. He watched his reflection heave breaths in and out, his gaze falling to the small cut on his lip, watching it well up with blood again. Shakily, he raised his hand to touch it. The stall behind swung open, revealing a familiar face. 

Yusuke was perched on the shelf behind the toilet, a sketchpad on his lap. Goro jumped, whipping around to face him, his hands gripping the sink behind him like a vice. 

"Yusuke. Didn't think you'd be the type to skip class." He forced his mouth to complete a coherent sentence, trying to ignore the taste of iron on his tongue. 

The dark-haired boy shrugged, setting his painting utensils to one side and hopping onto the tiled floor. "I simply wasn't interested in isotopes." 

"That's fair," Goro shrugged, slowly unhunching his shoulders from underneath his ears. 

Yusuke walked over to him, opting to lean on the sink next to him, smiling gently. "Your lip is still bleeding. Does it hurt?" 

He shook his head. Raising his hand up to his face, Yusuke tucked a strand of dark blue hair behind his ear. His own fingers were stained with black ink. Goro thought back to the dark brand where Suzui's body lay in the forest, the black blood creeping underneath her mauled body to cover the leaves in tar-black fluid. He swallowed, trying to keep his breathing steady. The panic was starting to set in, the numbing sensation wearing off. 

Yusuke picked up on it, then cocked his head to the side, not dissimilar to a curious bird. "Are you alright? You seem pale." 

When he placed the back of his hand to Goro's forehead, it was pleasantly cool, unlike the searing heat of Akira's flesh. Goro sighed, his brow knotting in worry. 

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. You really shouldn't worry." He reassured the taller boy, relishing the coolness of the back of his hand. 

"By saying that, you do realize that I will only worry more?" Yusuke let out a concerned laugh, "I'm starting to think I should take you to the nurse's office. Maybe even take you home." 

He couldn't speak. It was like his mouth was lined with sandpaper, and his throat was filled with broken glass, so he just nodded. Yusuke smiled again, fetching his sketch pad from one of the cubicles, shrugging on his jacket. 

"Come on, then. Are you alright with picking up your bike tomorrow?" Yusuke asked, holding the door open for him. "There's space on the back of mine."

Yusuke smelled like paint, spearmint, and pine. The wind ran cold fingers through Goro's hair as he pressed his face to the artist's back, his arms knotted around his waist. The street lamps were just starting to flicker on through the trees, and the forest was beginning to darken. A small, wind-up radio hung from one of the handles on Yusuke's bike, tuned in to the local radio station. 

"And now, the latest update on the fire that devastated so many families earlier this week." A voice crackled from the speaker, jolting as the bike's wheels snapped twigs and ran over leaves. "The band playing at the bar that night, Cannibal Girls, have a few things to say." 

Goro lifted his head from Yusuke's back, straining to hear the statement they were going to make. His mind traveled back to the shiny, white latex boots picking their way through the wreckage to take Akira into their van.

"Hi, this is Hifumi, frontwoman of Cannibal Girls," The radio wheezed out a gentle voice clouded with static. "We are absolutely touched by the unity this small town has shown in the face of this absolute tragedy. So touched, in fact, that we're donating some of the proceeds from our new single, Take Your Heart. Stay strong, everyone." 

He scoffed, burying his face in the back of Yusuke's dark teal jacket. The dark-haired boy threw him an amused look from over his shoulder. 

"Was their music even any good?" He asked, giving him a wry smile. 

Goro shook his head. "No. I think the drummer just escaped jail, too. She was fucking terrifying." 

Yusuke nodded, turning back to face the forest path. "Drummers often are. Do you want me to drop you off at home?" 

He froze, his shoulders reaching up to his ears. His mother was already up to her knees in work, not to mention in no state to comfort her son, who just saw a corpse in the woods. Seeing him like this would only make her worry more. 

"I don't think that would be a good idea." He admitted, fiddling with one of the buttons on Yusuke's jacket. "

Yusuke peered at him over his shoulder, stopping the bike. "No?" 

Goro shook his head again, sitting up. Yusuke seemed to think for a moment, then kicked off again, making a U-turn. 

"That's fine. I was wondering when I would get this opportunity. Are you alright with being painted?" He asked as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

Shrugging, Goro wrapped his arms around Yusuke's waist again. "I don't mind. I'd be happy to model for you. It's the least I can do in return for this." 

After parking his bike outside, Yusuke led Goro into the café, the keys chiming in his hand. 

"You live above the café?" Goro asked, shrugging off his jacket. 

Yusuke nodded, leading him up the stairs to what Goro assumed was his room. The owner of the café briefly looked up from his crossword, raising an eyebrow as they disappeared up the stairs, leaving the café empty. 

The attic room was spacious, with little plastic stars stuck to the ceiling. An easel sat in one corner of the room, looking out over the town's pathetic excuse for a square. The trees surrounding the room were just starting to turn gold and red, bustling together in the wind, their shadows faintly playing on Yusuke's unmade bed. It was low to the ground, housing a box of paints and pens, an ink-splattered shirt, and a stack of paper. Yusuke hung both his and Goro's jackets up on an exposed beam, reaching it without a struggle. 

Goro tried to avert his gaze from the pale strip of skin that exposed itself between the waist of Yusuke's jeans and the bottom of his t-shirt but couldn't tear his eyes away. Turning away, he focused on the electric heater glowing by the foot of the bed. 

"Would you prefer to sit or stand?" Yusuke asked softly, opening a box of acrylics. 

Goro scratched the back of his neck, shoving one hand in the pocket of his jeans. "I really don't mind. Where do you want me?" 

Setting the box down, Yusuke walked over to him, placing one hand underneath his chin. Then he took Goro by the shoulders, positioning him to sit on the bed with the autumnal leaves fluttering behind him. Yusuke knelt between his legs, gently moving his head to the side, tucking a strand of honey-colored hair behind Goro's ear. Feeling his ears start to turn red, Goro watched as the artist scanned his face. 

"Perfect." He murmured, then leaped to his feet, digging through his box of paints for a pencil. 

Goro watched Yusuke's face morph into a focused frown of concentration, chewing his lip as he brought the pencil over the paper over and over again, glancing up every now and then. Time flew by, and all thoughts of bloodstained leaves, heaving guts, and disquieting laughter left his mind. Yusuke was terribly entertaining to watch, as he would murmur small exclamations while painting, his face lighting up occasionally. Goro could see the light dimming from behind him as the evening started bearing down. 

"Wonderful," Yusuke announced, his joy apparent on his face, swiping a streak of grey across his face as he tucked his hair behind his ear. "You've done very well. Have you modeled before? You barely moved." 

Goro laughed, stretching his arms above his head. "No, I haven't. Thank you, though. It wasn't as difficult as your painting there, I'm sure." 

Flexing his wrists, Yusuke nodded to the painting, beckoning him closer. "On the contrary, it wasn't difficult. You are very easy to paint, Goro." 

He peered at the canvas, taking in the wash of color. The leaves were glowing on the canvas, painted in gorgeous hues of golds and reds. Goro saw himself looking straight back at the viewer, the light spilling onto his black sweater like molten gold. In short, it was a good painting. 

"Wow, Yusuke, I'm not entirely sure what to say." He breathed, unable to take his eyes away from it. 

Yusuke's smile dropped from his face. "You don't like it." 

He snapped his head up, waving his hands frantically. "No, no! It's lovely, Yusuke, it really is." 

The artist groaned, placed a hand to his brow, sighing dramatically. "No, Goro, please don't worry, I completely understand." 

"No, you don't. It's beautiful, _really_ beautiful. I just can't put it into words." He tried, stepping in front of Yusuke. 

The dark-haired boy waved his hand in the air, vaguely gesturing to the canvas. "Goro, please, you don't have to say that. I'll scrap it." 

Huffing in exasperation, Goro placed both of his hands on either side of Yusuke's face, leaning in close. "Listen to me. The painting is one of the best I've ever seen. I'm incredibly flattered. You do _not_ need to scrap it." 

As his eyes slowly trailed to Goro's, Yusuke removed his hand from his face, the expression on his face a rare mix of embarrassment and distress. Time seemed to stop as Yusuke stood up, brushing his lips against Goro's in a hesitant kiss, his hands hovering over the brown-haired boy's wrists. As he pulled away, Goro stared at him, stunned. Immediately, all color drained from Yusuke's face, and he brought a paint-splattered hand to his mouth. 

"Ah, that was terribly uncalled for. I apologize." He said, his eyes wide. "I really should not have done that." 

As he opened his mouth to stutter, even more, Goro kissed him again, running his thumb over Yusuke's cheekbone. Fingertips ghosted along the underside of his jaw, trailing a long, cold line of white paint along his skin. 

"You," Yusuke mumbled between kisses, "really know how to do this." 

Goro slid onto his lap, gripping a fistful of his shirt. "Call it practice." 

Hesitantly, Yusuke placed a hand on Goro's waist, thumbing the hem of his jeans. Goro lightly nipped at his lip, then ran a hand through his dark hair, smiling against his mouth. Just as Yusuke slid a hand underneath his turtleneck, Goro's phone started ringing. They disentangled themselves from each other, Goro digging around his pocket for his phone. 

"H-Hello?" He stuttered, bringing the device to his ear. 

Akira's voice sounded from the other side of the line. "Hey, Goro, where are you right now? Your mom's kinda worried." 

He cursed, scrabbling to find his coat. "Wait, where are _you_?" 

As he tried to grab his jacket from the beam, Yusuke stood up, removing it without a struggle and giving it to him. Then, with dawning mischief on his face, he leaned in to kiss Goro, placing a gentle hand underneath his chin. Goro almost dropped the phone, holding a handful of Yusuke's shirt. 

"Goro? Are you still there?" Akira called out from the receiver, his tone growing cold. 

Goro hummed in reply, trying to suppress a sigh as Yusuke's lips fell to his jaw, his fingers peeling the turtleneck away from his skin. Akira huffed out an indignant breath, obviously losing patience. 

"Am I keeping you from something?" He droned, and Goro could practically see him tapping his foot. 

His breath hitched as Yusuke's lips traveled to a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. "N-No, it's fine. I'll call her, but I might have to talk to you, ah, later. Bye." 

He hastily hung up, his knees swaying as Yusuke made his way to Goro's throat, nipping lightly. 

"Was that Akira?" He murmured into the crook of his neck, knotting his hand in Goro's hair. 

He nodded, his hand gripping the white t-shirt tightly. "Yeah. I think I have to go." 

Reluctantly, Yusuke sighed, untangling his hand from Goro's hair. Goro pecked him on the cheek quickly, smiling as he slipped his jacket on. Before he left, Yusuke grabbed his wrist, pointing to his own neck as his gaze fell to the collar of Goro's sweater.

"Those other marks, they-" He swallowed. "They looked painful. Be careful, Goro." 

Absentmindedly, Goro felt his hand travel to his throat, touching it lightly with his fingertips. "I will. Goodbye, Yusuke."

_As Goro watches the surface slowly grown further and further away, he closes his eyes. The feeling of losing all breath from his lungs crushes him, comforting and final. He floats in the depths, his hair streaming around him like seaweed, the yellow rain jacket glowing like coral._

_A warm arm wraps around his waist, pulling him upward. He opens his eyes, black dots clouding his vision. A pale face shines close to his, a hand pressing against his cheek. Goro feels pressure on his lips while heat spreads through his body as the figure in front of him blows air into his mouth. Slowly, he feels himself floating upwards, the stranger pulling him to the surface. The spell breaks as he breaks through the surface of the water, gasping and panting. He pushes his hair from his face, coughing up lake water. Akira treads water in front of him, the steam evaporating from his exposed arms. His grey t-shirt sticks to his body like paint, and even though it was clean, it still smells like blood._

_Still coughing, Goro tries to push away from him but immediately starts sinking. He tries to fall underneath the surface again, but Akira yanks him back up again, rolling his eyes._

_"God, would you chill out for a minute?" He drawls, slicking his dark hair back._

_Goro splutters, finally starting to stop coughing. "Fuck you!"_

_"Is that really all you have to say to me? What about 'sorry for stabbing you in the stomach with a long metal pole, Akira,' or 'sorry I tried to drown myself because I couldn't deal with a bit of friendship drama, Akira.' God, some people." He rolls his eyes again, his sharp canines gleaming in the moonlight._

_"You ate my fucking boyfriend!" Goro yells, splashing the surface of the lake in frustration._

_Akira raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"_

_He coughs, his hair dripping water into his eyes. "Why?"_

_His best friend's face contorts into an expression of confusion as if Goro was missing an obvious point. "To impress you, dumbass."_

_"Akira, usually when you want to impress someone, you buy them flowers or some shit," Goro argues, "You don't eat their partner! That is not how it works!"_

_Frowning, Akira sticks his tongue out at his best friend. "I'm still waiting for the apology for stabbing me with a pool cleaner."_

_"You're not going to get one. Fuck off." Goro punctuates his retort by slapping a large sheet of water into Akira's face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a long one today sorry  
> lmfao i legitimately apologize for putting you through all this stupid love triangle bullshit, but i promise it's necessary


	3. Goro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Gore, Violence, Cannibalism

_"Come on, Goro, I don't want you to die out here," Akira pleads, tugging him to the pier._

_Adamantly, Goro shakes his head, feeling the cold start to grip his muscles again, now that Akira's further away from him. "You're lying to me. You tried to kill me."_

_Rolling his eyes, Akira groans, firmly taking Goro by the waist and diving underwater. They reach the bottom of the lake in seconds, the darkness flooding his vision so quickly, Goro's sure he's finally died. But Akira pushes off the ground, hurtling upwards, holding Goro tightly to his chest. They break through the surface, leaping out of the lake and hovering slightly above the pier. Akira gently lets Goro down, hopping onto the edge of the deck._

_"I wasn't trying to kill you. It's a little difficult for fight-or-flight reflexes not to kick in when you're literally being impaled by a sharp metal pole." He snipes, gesturing to the gaping hole in his grey t-shirt._

_Shivering, Goro blinks the water out of his eyes, defiantly staring at his best friend's face. "You know, Akira, as much as I thought I wanted you dead, I couldn't stop myself wishing you'd survive that. That's why I'm not only blaming you, but I'm also blaming myself."_

_Akira gives him a bright smile, grabbing his hands and twirling him around in a little circle. "There we go! That's as close to an apology as I've ever heard you say, so well done. Now come home with me, okay? We need to get you warmed up."_

_Clenching his jaw, Goro shuts his eyes in frustration as Akira snakes his arm around his waist. "Akira," He warns, trying to keep as calm as possible._

_"We can share a shower like we did in 10th grade, remember?" He purrs, his hand creeping underneath the yellow rain jacket and soaked t-shirt, warm against his skin._

Goro walked home alone after politely declining Yusuke's offer to accompany him. Of course, it didn't occur to him then that there was any danger lying in wait in the dark, waiting with bared fangs and sharp claws. He didn't even stick to the street lights, wandering through the woods on a vague path towards his house. The trees were bristling in the wind with anticipation, but he foolishly ignored his instincts telling him to run. It didn't even occur to him that he had seen a dead girl's insides spill out on the forest's roots, forgetting the chilling laughter bouncing around the trees. 

The air hummed with energy, and finally, Goro started to feel worried. A twig snapped behind him, and he whipped around, looking for anyone who might have been following him. In the corner of his eye, a dark shape stood in the mist, tall, with sword-like limbs and angular joints. His breath caught in his throat, lodging like a sharp stone in his trachea. The fog started creeping further through the trees, picking over fallen branches and rocks like searching fingers. 

He stumbled backward as the ghostly still silhouette started moving towards him, its movements jagged and unnaturally stiff, bending at too many joints. Goro's hair whipped around his face as he ran, the branches tearing at any exposed skin as he scaled fallen trees and moss-covered rocks. In the distance, the streetlights shone faintly, the road completely undisturbed. His legs faltered beneath him, and he pitched forward. Catching himself on a tree, Goro felt the heels of his palms grate against the harsh bark of the birch tree, smearing blood against the bone-white trunk. He leaned against it, pressing his forehead to the bark. 

Hot, panting breath was hot against his neck, the warmth of another living being heating his back. Goro's eyes shot open. He whipped around, facing the empty, cold woods. The creature was gone, and Goro turned back around, only to find Akira standing a little bit in front of him, hands in his pockets. 

"Hey, you don't look so good. C'mon, I'll get you home." He smiled charmingly, taking Goro by the hand and tugging him towards the streetlight. 

The mist was gone, and the monstrous figure in the woods had disappeared too. As Akira pulled him away from the deathly pale birch trees, Goro gaped at the empty woods, wondering if he was finally losing it. 

"God, you're so cold. C'mere," Akira patted Goro's bed, drawing back the covers. "Sit. You look like death."

Goro did as he was told, his teeth chattering from the cold. Akira smiled warmly at him, lying down on his side.

"How did you know where I was?" Goro asked, shivering in his mist-soaked sweater, sitting with his legs crossed. 

Akira shrugged, leaning his head on his hand. "I don't really know, if I'm being honest. I tend to find myself walking towards you whenever I feel you're close. Maybe I'm psychic."

Goro snorted. "Yeah, right. But is that what you did after the fire that night?" 

Dark eyes looked up at him through thick eyelashes. "What do you mean?" 

As he picked at a loose thread on his duvet, Goro swallowed. "You know, when you came inside, rooting through my fridge, and," He paused, pulling down his collar, "Well, you did some damage." 

Akira sat up, examining the bite marks and bruises on his neck. "Holy shit." 

Goro felt his fingers brush against the marks, and a sudden jolt of electricity ran through his veins, thrumming underneath Akira's fingertips. 

Something flashed in Akira's eyes. Something hungry. He kept circling the diameter of the bite just above Goro's jugular vein, his lips slightly parted. As if he was trapped in a magnetic field, Goro found himself leaning forward, into the warmth of Akira's body. The fingertips tracing his neck stopped, drifting upward into his hair. 

"Did it hurt?" Akira whispered, close enough that a black curl of hair brushed against Goro's forehead.

He shook his head. "No."

"Did it feel good?" Akira asked, his other hand sliding underneath Goro's black sweater. 

Absently, he nodded, the tip of his nose brushing against his friend's. 

Smiling, Akira cocked his head to the side, looking up at Goro through his eyelashes. "Want me to do it again?"

A pleasant heat rolled down his spine, and he nodded, letting Akira pull the sweater over his head. Goro watched as Akira took his time, joining the dots between the freckles on his chest and arms. Gently, and so terribly slowly, Akira ghosted his lips over the length of his clavicles, his hand tugging lightly at Goro's hair. 

"I'll always find my way back to you." Akira smiled, all sharp edges and cutting points. 

When he kissed Goro, it felt like whiskey in the back of his throat. Burning, smokey, and sweet on his tongue, Akira smoldered like a fever, pulling him closer. Goro forgot about everything, only invested in the fiery heat of Akira's open flames. Only when his arm brushed against the cold metal of his belt buckle, he remembered Yusuke. He pulled away, kicking swathes of his duvet off of his legs as he frantically tried to put distance between him and Akira. 

"We can't do this." He breathed, shivering in the absence of Akira's warmth. 

The dark-haired boy frowned. "Why not?"

Goro simply shook his head, patting the ground in search of his sweater. Frowning, Akira crossed his arms over his chest, charcoal eyes narrowing. "Didn't think you'd be the type to play Gay Chicken, Goro. What the fuck is going on with you?" 

"I don't," He started, then sighed, pushing his hair back, "I can't do this with you. Kitagawa, the new student-" 

"Oh, my fucking God. The transfer student? God, Goro didn't think you'd be _that_ desperate." Akira snapped, glaring at him hotly, face flushed with anger. 

Feeling himself start to lose patience, Goro clenched his jaw. "I'm not desperate. Yusuke's nice, he's-" 

Akira threw his head back in laughter. "Oh, he's _nice_ , is he? God, you'd just about get on your knees for anyone who shows you a scrap of attention. Why him?" 

"Akira, you're being a dick," Goro mumbled, shrinking into himself. 

His best friend scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm being a dick, now, am I? This is just like you, blaming me for reading into what I think you want, only for you to tell me I'm in the wrong and that it's all my fault!" 

Clenching his jaw again, his hands curled into fists around his bedsheets, and he glowers up at Akira. "You need to stop." 

"No, you need to make up your fucking mind!" Akira yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "You can't keep sticking to me like a limpet and then blame me when you can't keep it in your pants."

Anger flared like a matchstick falling onto a trail of gasoline. "Pot, meet kettle, Akira. You run around, sticking your tongue down the throats of every person who shows the _remotest_ interest in you. It's no wonder I don't take you seriously, not when you don't know a genuine emotion from a fake one!" 

Goro expected a harsh reply. There was only silence as Akira stared at him, a mixture of anger and hurt clear on his face. Standing up, Akira snatched his backpack from the floor, marching over to the door frame. He stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. "I take off my mask around you, Goro. It's _always_ genuine." 

Then, he slammed Goro's bedroom door behind him as he marched across the hallway. Tripping over himself to follow him, Goro wrenched it open. A gust of cold air slapped him in the face, and he looked up just in time to watch Akira hop off of his windowsill, falling casually onto the street two storeys below. His breath caught in his throat, and Goro ran to the window, craning his neck to try and make out Akira in the darkness. To his utter surprise and confusion, nothing was there. The streets were empty, the orange streetlamps glowing like a dying fire. 

Akira showed up at school the next morning in the shirt that he used when he needed to impress someone. He gravitated towards Haru, the head cheerleader, and her friends, and soon enough, their laughter bounced off of the halls. Futaba wrinkled her nose, shutting her locker. 

"God, I hate teenagers." She moaned, her ring binders squeaking against each other in her arms.

Goro held a hair tie between his teeth, gathering his hair into a ponytail. "Tell me about it. Okumura has such a plastic laugh, like, she's just hissing out air." 

Futaba groaned in agreement, slumping against the wall of metal doors. "It's a shame she's so hot. Cheerleaders are basically Satan's Barbies: pretty, but they eat you up and shit out your soul."

Goro grimaced. "Graphic." 

Snorting, the shorter girl gestured to the scarf around his neck. "Yeah, so are those. What, did you get busy with a zombie?"

"Shut up," He pulled it further up over his neck, the tips of his ears burning red. "They're meant to be fading." 

"It looks like you were mauled by a bear. You should put some antiseptic on that or something." She sniffed, flipping through a red binder, pulling out printed sheets of code. "A'ight, I gotta dip. This won't feed itself to the shredder."

She pushed off the lockers, darting between other students in the hallway. As her bright shock of ginger hair vanished among the crowd, Goro locked eyes with Akira. He was talking to a blonde boy, tucking a strand of dark hair behind his ear and batting his eyelashes. For a moment, as someone passed in front of him, he looked impossibly tall, with too many sharp lines and a thin stream of red liquid trickling from his full lips. Goro blinked, and it was gone. But looking into Akira's eyes from over the shoulder of the blonde boy was making his head hurt, the ground spinning underneath his feet. 

"Hey," A low voice called out, clear and calm. 

Goro turned, coming face to face with Yusuke, who smiled softly, a smattering of blue paint speckling his face.

"Hi." He said breathlessly, welcoming the scent of pine and spearmint. 

"Did you get home safe?" Yusuke asked, "I was a little reluctant to let you go on your own." 

Goro nodded, absently tugging at the scarf. "Yeah, I did, thanks." 

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." Yusuke placed a cold hand on his forehead, concern welling in his dark eyes. 

Goro laughed, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You could say that, I guess." 

The rest of the day went by without incident. Goro and Akira didn't speak to each other, pointedly ignoring the other in class. This proved to be moderately tricky to do, as they were usually sat together, and it wasn't easy to disregard your lab partner when they were passing you a test tube of corrosive acid. Briefly, Akira's hand ghosted over Goro's, and he almost recoiled. His skin was burning hot, like the handle of a door with a blazing fire on the other side. As if nothing had happened, Akira looked up at him, eyes dark enough to swallow all of the light in the room, and then went back to making notes on the experiment. 

During their fifth period English class, Ms. Kawakami knocked her coffee over onto the lined paper at the front. With a world-weary sigh, she brushed her hair from her forehead, then looked up at the class. Hiding a laugh behind her hand, Haru watched the coffee pool onto the desk. 

"Oh, that's a shame. Looks like you'll have to get some new paper, miss. I can go get some if you want." She chirped, already gathering her stuff and dragging her latest boyfriend to his feet. 

Kawakami groaned. "I think not. I don't have time to deal with a budding teen romance."

Haru's mouth fell open in shock. "Miss, I wasn't going to do anything, I-" 

"You there, the tall boy with blue hair." Kawakami vaguely gestured in Yusuke's direction. "Go get me some lined paper from the storage cupboard.

Yusuke got to his feet, hesitantly walking to the door. "I'm afraid I'm not sure where the cupboard is." 

The brunette woman let out a sigh that could outperform industrial weed-killer. "It's just down the hall, up the next flight of stairs on your left, and -oh, whatever. Akechi, show the transfer student to the cupboard." 

Goro perked up, snapping out of his daydream and wrenching his gaze from the window. "The storage cupboard?" 

"I swear to God, all of you are _incompetent_. It's no wonder Ms. Chouno didn't show up. You're tiring the poor woman out. And me, at this rate, if I have to cover any more of her lessons." She sent a bereaved look upwards as if praying for release. 

The corridors were empty, and their footsteps echoed off of the linoleum floor. Looking around as they ascended the stairs, Yusuke's eyes had a familiar look of glimmering mischief in them. Goro switched on the light, peering through the stacks of old textbooks and worn cardboard boxes of spare equipment. As soon as the door closed behind them, Yusuke grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. With a startled yelp, Goro fell into his chest, a few pencils scattering onto the floor. Yusuke fiddled with a strand of his ponytail, his other hand resting on Goro's waist. 

"You look nice today," He whispered. "The ponytail suits you."

Goro cleared his throat, feeling his face start to warm up. "Thank you. You always look great."

Yusuke's laugh chimed like a bell, and much to Goro's embarrassment, his hand moved to tip his chin upward. "You're very cute when you're flustered." 

"I am _not_ ," Goro protested, "flustered!" 

Yusuke raised an eyebrow, humming as he weaved his index fingers through the belt loops in Goro's jeans. Tugged even closer, he could feel Yusuke's breath just below his jaw, his lips ghosting over his skin. His breath hitched in his throat, and he had to bite his tongue to stifle any noises threatening to spill out as Yusuke's fingertips pressed against the skin above the hem of his jeans. Instinctively, Goro gripped the soft fabric of the artist's shirt, craning his neck to the side as he left out a sigh. 

Then, like watching the landscape vanish as he looked through the window of a train going through a tunnel, everything went dark. Even though he was vaguely aware of Yusuke's hands on his stomach, Goro felt like he was hearing something through six feet of dirt. Quiet moans of pain and chiming laughter were muffled, but still there, as Goro tried to focus on it. And, as if a door had opened, or a coffin had been unearthed, it was crystal clear. Goro could see the white tiles of the science rooms, hear the dripping water from the cold, ceramic sinks, and smell the bitter scent of iron. It was like a dream, and he felt as if he was walking through water as he tried to navigate where the sound was coming from. 

Soft groans came from behind a desk, and as he stepped forward, Goro felt something squish underneath his shoe. Stepping backward, he knew what it was before he saw it. Soft, malleable, bloody meat sat on the sterile floor, scarlet and raw as blood trickled through the tiles. Following the crimson lines, Goro's eyes met the glassy, bloodshot stare of Ms. Chouno, her wine-red lipstick marred by even darker stains. A pale, blood-splattered hand delicately picked its way through the messily torn flesh on the right side of her face, skimming its nails over her exposed teeth and jawbone. Then, with practiced precision, the hand plucked one of her eyes from its socket and vanished behind the desk. Bile rose in Goro's throat as a hum of delight came from behind the desk, a horrifyingly familiar laugh echoing off of the walls. 

And then he was back, Yusuke's hands were gently holding his face, his dark eyes worried. "Goro? Are you alright?" 

He was out of breath and could feel the shock setting into his hands, the feeling of panic buzzing under his skin. Slowly, his eyes traveled up to the ceiling, watching the red seep through the plaster. Yusuke followed his stare, paling as a drop of it fell onto his face. As he raised a hand to his cheek, Goro sprinted at full speed out of the closet, staggering through the corridors up to the science classrooms. 

The only sound Goro could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and his breath echoing through the halls as he ran through the science corridor, looking through every door for the tell-tale red splatters on the floor. His head was spinning, and it felt like the linoleum was surging upward as he reeled through each classroom. Turning the corner, the smell of blood hit him in the face like a hammer, and he stopped, watching the hallway spin around him. Before he could realize that he was moving, Goro felt the rush of air that came with falling, his hands wildly grasping for something to hold on to.

"Hey, hey, don't worry," A soft voice murmured into his ear, "I've got you." 

Goro fell back into the waiting arms of his best friend, staring up at him in confusion. "Akira?" 

"Who else would it be, silly?" Akira smiled warmly, his arm tightly wrapped around Goro's shoulders. 

The ringing in his ears had died down, and he could see clearly now, but he was unable to take his eyes off of Akira's face. He was practically glowing. 

"What's wrong? You look stressed." His friend asked, but the words lacked the concern that the sentence would usually be accompanied by. 

Goro shook his head, raising a hand to his temple. "I, well, I'm not sure." 

A quiet dripping came from a classroom to his left, and Goro felt his heart lurch in his chest, his hands beginning to shake. Removing Akira's hand from his neck, he tentatively took a step forward, listening for the dripping as he moved into the classroom. Before he turned the corner, just like he had before, Goro immediately knew what he was going to see. The foresight didn't stop the bile from rising in his throat as he saw the bluebottle resting on the glassy eyes of Ms. Chouno, rubbing its little legs together over her irises. His hand flew to his mouth, and he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet. Footsteps echoed around the corner, and Yusuke's long legs carried him to Goro's side, taking him gently by the elbows. 

"Goro, what's going on?" He asked. 

Akira gave him a dirty look, snarling with an animosity Goro had never seen him use before. He sharply nodded to the classroom, his hand on the doorframe. Yusuke squinted at it, looking at him with suspicion. 

As he peered into the classroom, his face changed slightly, but the movement was forced, like kicking yourself to make yourself wince. He lifted his hand to his mouth, seemingly shocked as he glanced back over his shoulder. 

"Yusuke Kitagawa, right? You better get a teacher. It's Ms. Chouno." He said, his voice shaking behind his hand. 

Yusuke looked down at Goro, and concern was apparent in his knotted brow and bitten lip. "Goro, are you alright with me going?" 

Looking back at Akira, whose hand was still over his mouth, Goro nodded, stabilizing himself against the wall. "Yeah, go, I'll be fine." 

"Besides, I'm here," Akira chimed in, placing a hand on the brown-haired boy's shoulder. "I can take care of him." 

Doubt clouding his eyes, Yusuke faltered, glancing over his shoulder at the stairs, then at Goro. Swallowing, he finally nodded, briskly jogging away from them as Akira watched him go, a stoic expression on his face. Goro coughed, looking up at his friend. "Is she-" 

"She's dead," Akira confirmed like he was checking the answers to a crossword and not stating that a human being was dead.

His palms were hot against Goro's skin, and they gently led him to the fire escape. Glancing down at him, Akira smiled like a fox, running his tongue over his lips. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

"But shouldn't we provide a statement to the police or something?" He asked quietly, looking back over his shoulder at the classroom. 

Akira took his face in his hands, forcing Goro to look into his eyes. "You shouldn't be subjected to interrogation. You don't deserve the extra stress, so _please_ , let me take care of you?" 

Those words were the exact ones Akira used whenever Goro hurt himself. Without fail, whether it was a papercut or a broken limb, Akira would ask to take care of him and take him home, applying a bandaid or calling an ambulance. The sentence held more nostalgia than a photo album, sweet and warm like honey. Akira smiled gently at him, all deviousness disappearing. Goro took Akira's hand, letting him pull him onto the rusted metal stairs and lead him to the parking lot. 

_"I should feel worse about this," Goro mutters, allowing Akira to peel his dripping shirt from his body. The bed is soft and warm beneath him, a small sliver of comfort he doesn't deserve._

_Akira nods, pressing a kiss to his ribcage. "Yeah, maybe. Yusuke was boring, though."_

_Goro's brow wrinkles in disagreement, and he frowns down at Akira. "He was not. Yusuke wasn't a fucking serial killer."_

_As he presses his teeth against the soft skin in between Goro's ribs, Akira grins as the brown-haired boy bites his lip, trying to stay quiet. "He was rather handy with that pocket knife."_

_Goro scoffs, yanking Akira back from his chest by the hair, tilting his head back. "At least you survived."_

_Laughing, Akira runs his tongue over his teeth, a smile splitting across his face. He doesn't bother to reply, his fingers drifting over Goro's sides like flames sliding over paper. As he lingers over the bruises inflicted from the fight, Goro loosens his grip on his hair, his hand sliding down to lightly touch Akira's face._

_"Why?" He breathes, the pad of his finger ghosting over the corner of Akira's mouth._

_The dark-haired boy smiles wider. "Because it's you. For me, it's always been you. And you know that for you, it's always been me."_

_Goro folds in on himself, his head bowed away from Akira's gaze, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Why can't I hate you? You've killed, you've eaten, and you've done it all with a smile on your face, and I still can't hate you. Knowing I hurt you makes me want to be sick, but I'm furious with myself because I should have known you wouldn't feel remorse, not even after you almost died."_

_Hands stroke his hair gently, running through any knots and tangles, and Akira lifts his face up to look at Goro with a soft smile. "Because you grew up with me. You know me better than anyone else."_

_He presses a kiss to the middle of Goro's forehead, warm and inviting, and Goro's arms wrap around his back as he chokes out a sob._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy do i love procrastinating  
> (thanks to kimonoforlove for pointing out i accidentally made ann head cheerleader instead of haru lmfao)


End file.
